"Let me clean you up," I said, gripping his hands as I stood up in front of him. He didn't look any better from this new angle. He just nodded slowly without opening his eyes. I raised his hands to my lips one more time, pressing a kiss to his knuckles before releasing them. "I'll be right back," I told him as I turned and left the room.

I practically ran to his bathroom, hoping I would find some first aid supplies there. I whipped open the mirror cabinet, disappointed that it only hid toothbrushes and toothpaste. Crouching down, I jerked open the drawers under the sink, finding a washcloth. I let out a sigh of relief at the last cupboard I opened, immediately spotting the white box with the large red cross on it. A first aid kit.

Grabbing it, I hauled it up to the counter and opened it to examine its contents. Luckily, I had learned the basics of first aid in a class at school, so I knew when I saw peroxide, gauze, bandages, and antibacterial ointment that these basic materials were as good as I could hope for. I got the washrag wet with warm water, ringing it out slightly before gathering my items and running back to Harry's room.

He sat exactly where I had left him, eyes still closed, lips slightly parted, hands sprawled out next to him holding him up. It was then that I noticed his white t-shirt was absolutely covered in blood. His jeans had fared better, although it was hard to tell because of their dark color.

"Baby," I said gently, petting my hands softly through his hair as he opened his eyes and looked up at me.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to try and take your shirt off, it's covered in blood. Will you be okay?" I asked. "Be honest."

"I'll be fine, Jo," he said, slightly exasperated at my babying. He raised his arms up above his head, somehow managing to keep his face straight. I grabbed the hem of his shirt and slowly slid it up his body and over his head, freeing his arms from the holes. Balling it up, I tossed it in the trashcan in the corner of his room. That amount of blood would not wash out.

Now that I had a clear view of his body, I couldn't help but gasp at the sight. Deep purple bruises were already springing up all over his lean torso, similar to the ones on his face only much larger in size. His rib cage, in particular, was practically one huge black splotch.

"Oh, Harry..." I trailed off, covering my mouth with my hand as my eyes searched his body further.

"I'm fine, Joey," he repeated. I finally tore my eyes from his damaged torso to see he was examining my face. Right, I was going to be strong. For him. I kneeled down and grabbed my supplies off the floor to set them on his bed. Gripping the rag, I wound it around my fingers to begin cleaning him off.

"This is just water, okay?" I told him. He nodded. Gingerly, I pressed the rag to his forehead, wiping away the dried blood there. The closer I got to the cuts on his face, the more he struggled to keep himself composed. I could clearly see he was clenching his jaw, but he worked hard to keep his breathing even and his eyes neutral as they focused intently on my own. My gaze, however, was focused on his skin, being careful to only wipe at the dried blood and not any actually cuts.

When I had his face mostly cleared, I moved to his hair, trying to clean the matted strands. My fingers worked cautiously, not wanting to touch him unnecessarily and cause him pain. As I worked on his hair, my eyes flitted down to his, finding them searing into mine. I gave him a sad smile that didn't reach my eyes before returning my focus on cleaning him up. Finally, I had most of the dried blood wiped away.

Setting the rag down, I hesitated as I stared at the rest of my supplies. Peroxide. That was next. Remembering a time I had fallen off my bike and my mother had poured it onto gauze to clean my wound, I figured that's what I should do as well. I picked up a square of gauze before pouring some of the liquid onto it.

"This is going to sting," I told him, remembering how it had burned, hovering the sponge over his cut on his lip.

"I know," he said simply. "I trust you."

He took a deep breath before I pressed the gauze down on his lip, letting it soak for a few seconds before removing it and dabbing it down again. I repeated this a few times until I felt comfortable it had been disinfected properly. Setting the gauze square down on the rag, I picked up another and poured more peroxide on it before pressing it gently to the cut on his eyebrow. This one was considerably deeper than the one on his lip, and was even bleeding a bit still. The white gauze was stained pink when I pulled it away to examine the cut closer.

"Harry, you might need stitches," I told him as I squinted at his wound.

"No, no, a band aid will be just fine," he insisted, waving me off.

"I'm serious, this one is pretty deep," I pressed, hoping he would agree with me.

"I'm not going to the hospital, babe," he said stubbornly. I huffed and rolled my eyes.

"Such a boy..." I muttered as I continued to dab at his wound with the peroxide. At least it seemed to be stopping bleeding.

"Heard that," he said, the corner of his mouth turning up just the slightest.

I shrugged as I pressed my lips together, glad he was at least feeling well enough to make a semi-joke. Reaching for the tube of antibacterial ointment, I squeezed out a small amount onto my finger before spreading it onto his cuts gently. Pulling out two band-aids, I opened them both before applying one to his eyebrow, causing his left eye to appear slightly droopy with the adhesive. I paused at the second cut, however, frowning. His cut was on his lower lip, not in the middle but not on the side, either; it would be very difficult to put a band-aid there.

"That one's fine, Joey," he said, clearly seeing my dilemma. I furrowed my eyebrows, not liking having to leave that cut open. He was probably right, though; it would be fine without anything covering it.

"Okay," I said, gathering up my supplies before standing again. "Stay here," I told him, looking down at him sternly. He looked much better now that he wasn't coated in his own blood, although the bruises covering his face and torso still looked pretty menacing.

He rolled his eyes and smirked softly. "Yes, ma'am."

I narrowed my eyes at him, glaring, before turning to return the supplies to the bathroom and throw away the ones I had used. After replacing the materials, I ran down to his kitchen in search of pain relief medication and ice packs. I found the medicine in the third cabinet I checked, shaking out four pills into my hand and placing them on the counter before moving to the freezer.

There I found two actual ice packs, two bags of frozen peas, and a bag of frozen corn. It would have to do. I wrapped the make shift ice packs, along with the real ones, in a dishrag before filling a glass with water. Somehow, I managed to carry all that along with the pills back upstairs to Harry.

Setting down my ice packs, I dumped the pills into his hand and instructed him to take them before handing him the glass of water to swallow them. He winced as the water moved down his throat, handing the glass back to me. I set it on his bedside table before turning to frown at him.

"I'm going to take your jeans off," I informed him. He looked startled, nerves springing up just as they always did in this type of situation. It didn't matter that he had just gotten beaten up and I had cleaned him up; he was still nervous when it came to this type of thing.

"Why?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Because I really doubt you want to sleep in those things, they're probably covered in blood, and I also doubt you'll be able to do it without hurting yourself," I said matter-of-factually. He couldn't really argue with me; his jeans were very, very tight, and he would surely have slept in them before struggling to get them off, which would have been very uncomfortable.

"Okay, fine," he said, looking unhappy.

"Leave it to you to be upset about a girl taking off your pants," I teased, causing him to blush before smiling softly. "Lie down."

Surprisingly, he obeyed without any debate. Somehow managing to maneuver himself without too much wincing, he was now lying on his bed, over the covers, but at least in the proper position. I crawled up on the bed as well, hovering next to him as my fingers moved to undo the button and zipper of his jeans.

He watched me intently as his chest rose and fell with each breath. Slowly, so as not to jostle him, I tugged down on his jeans, struggling against the tight material before finally pulling him free of the fabric.

"Those are tighter than mine," I said as I pulled on them, grunting slightly with effort as I smiled up at him. Finally, I had the jeans pulled free from his legs. I was about to toss them to the ground when my hand felt something in his pocket. I froze, looking at Harry to find he was staring at my hand clutched around the mysterious object in there.

Slowly, I reached my fingers in to pull out whatever it was. As soon as my fingers wrapped around the object, my heart sank in my chest. Gingerly, I pulled out the broken remains of his glasses, which had been snapped in half, one of the lenses cracked. My eyebrows pulled together sadly as I looked at them.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," I said quietly, gently picking them up to see if they could be salvaged. His eyes flicked up from the glasses to look at me.

"It's okay, Joey, it's not your fault, remember?" he said evenly.

"Well I'm still sorry they got broken... they were your dad's," I said. Like he needed reminding.

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I hardly wear them anymore, anyways," he said, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. It was true- more and more often when I saw him he wasn't wearing them. I pressed my lips together apologetically before crossing the room and gently setting them down on top of his dresser in front of the photo of him and his father.

I then pressed the various frozen products to his body where the bruises were darkest, and he flinching away from the cold every time. I handed him one to press to his face, which he held there for about a second before wincing at the temperature and setting it back down. I frowned at him.

"It's cold," he said, smiling back as he raised a finger and curled it, beckoning me towards him. I grabbed the blanket at the foot of his bed before crawling up the bed and lying down next to him, throwing the blanket over both of us. While I wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with him and run my fingers over his bruised skin to soothe the ache, I was scared that any pressure I put on him hurt him.

He took one look at me, laying flat on my back next to him, not touching except the lightest of contact between our arms before rolling his eyes and swinging his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him.

"That doesn't hurt?" I asked, looking up at him.

"No," he answered. "Would be worth it even if it did."

Taking that as permission, I shuffled myself closer so I was lying on my side, my head resting on the crook between his chest and arm. My free hand gently came to rest on his stomach, fingers trailing softly across his skin. My eyes followed their pattern, making sure to be extra cautious whenever I came into contact with an ice-pack covered bruise, which was frequent. Harry watched me, not saying anything for several minutes. I gently pressed my lips to the skin covering his chest, wanting to take every ounce of pain from his body.

"Thank you, Joey," he said softly as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

"You took care of me, I'm going to take care of you," I said simply, giving a small shrug. He seemed to accept that answer.

"Sorry I didn't get to show you my plan," he mumbled against my hair.

I pressed another kiss to his chest. "It doesn't matter, Harry, I'm sure you'll show me another time. You have no reason to be sorry."

He shrugged. "Soon," he said.

"Deal," I replied.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" he asked softly. Another kiss landed on top of my head.

"Of course," I said, without a second thought. I would find a way to explain this to my mother.

"That's not what you're supposed to say," he said. I furrowed my eyebrows and raised my head to look at him. His green eyes were wide with expectation.

"What am I supposed to say?" I asked.

"You know," he said, eyebrow twitching up in a challenge. I smiled slowly at him.

"Always?"

"There you go," he said, pressing yet another kiss to my forehead.

"Of course I'll stay with you, Harry," I told him. He searched my face intently, eyes full of so many different emotions. "Always."

Thanks for reading :) xx